


The Things You Don't Want to Forget

by ReasonPapers



Category: All My Children
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReasonPapers/pseuds/ReasonPapers
Summary: It's hard to let go of something good.





	The Things You Don't Want to Forget

**Author's Note:**

> I'm consolidating some fics here on AO3. This was a 2009 fic posted for as a gift in the femslash ficathon. Enjoy!

“I asked you not to call me.”

“I know.”

“How did you get my new number?”

Maggie glared at Bianca defensively. “I didn’t even know you had a new number.”

“But you figured it out, and I want to know how.”

Maggie tried to hide a self-satisfied grin. “Victor gave it to me.”

“Victor?’ Bianca shouted, eyes ablaze. “My head of security?”

  
  
_The blonde moved a half-empty glass of vodka tonic from hand to hand. “Victor,” she began. Victor became suddenly fascinated with the tiny bit of amber liquid at the bottom of his own glass, and stared at it unblinkingly. “I need Bianca’s phone number.”_ _  
_

_Victor brought his glass to his lips and downed the remains of his drink in one large gulp, smacking his lips. “Well, it’s about damn time,” he sighed. He swung one of his enormous arms around to give Maggie a pat on the back that almost knocked her from her seat. With a guilty smile, he pulled out his pen and scribbled some numbers onto his napkin, which he handed over to her.  
_

_Maggie raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s it?” She had a speech all prepared. She was ready to convince him, and everyone else, of her sincerity. Eying him narrowly, she asked cautiously, “Is this her real number?”  
_

_“Of course,” Victor replied, rising. “Don’t screw this up.”_

  
  
“Apparently, I am not a threat to your security,” Maggie said coyly.

“I don’t think that’s a call for you—OR Victor—to make,” Bianca responded flatly.

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Maggie retaliated impatiently, then forced her voice to sound calm once more. “I needed to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About…” Hmm. “Everything.”

“I think we may have had this conversation before,” Bianca said guardedly, edging toward the end of the picnic table where she was seated, facing Maggie.

“How’s Miranda?” Maggie sputtered, saying the first thing that came to her mind.

 

  
_“We are so proud of you,” Reese said, hugging Miranda tightly. The little girl smiled contently in Reese’s arms, and Bianca felt a surge of joy for her family.  
_

_“Mommy,” Miranda exclaimed suddenly, “this needs to be somewhere safe!” She thrust a piece of parchment-looking paper into her mother’s hands.  
_

_“Of course, sweetheart,” Bianca said, placing the ‘Pupil of the Year’ award into her purse between several folders, where she knew it would be kept neatly until they got home.  
_

_“Hey, I’m thirsty. Would my favorite first-grader like some juice?”  
_

_“Second grader, Reese, I just graduated!”  
_

_“Excuse me,” Reese laughed, “perhaps my favorite second-grader would like some juice?”  
_

_Miranda smiled proudly, one tooth missing at the front of her grin. “Yes, please.”  
_

_“Alright, sweetie, I’ll be right back.”  
_

_Almost as soon as Reese had gone, Miranda had turned and taken her mother’s hand again. She tugged on it seriously, and Bianca bent down to Miranda’s eye level.  
_

_“What is it, sweetie?”  
_

_“Will Maggie know I graduated and got ‘Pupil of the Year’?”  
_

_Bianca was completely taken aback. “I… um… Maggie isn’t here anymore, sweetie.”  
_

_“I know,” Miranda said solemnly. “But she told me I would be really good at first grade, and I was. And Mr. Pierot said that next year we would learn about frogs, and_ _Maggie likes frogs.”  
_

_“Well… Maggie would be very proud of you. Just like Reese is, and just like I am.”  
_

_“I know, Mommy,” Miranda said casually, nestling against her mother’s leg. “I just miss Maggie sometimes, still. Do you miss her sometimes, too?”_

  
  
“Miranda is fine.”

“That’s it? Come on, Bianca.”

“She graduated at the top of her first grade class. She got ‘Pupil of the Year.’ She’s learning about frogs next year, and she’s very excited for second grade already.”

“Ooh, I love frogs,” Maggie said excitedly.

Bianca smiled in spite of herself. She looked away.  _“She still misses you sometimes,”_  she wanted to say.  _“_ _And I--”_

“How’s Reese?” Maggie asked tentatively. She thought she saw Bianca flinch, but Bianca’s expression was quickly clouded by irritation.

“Cut the small talk, Maggie,” Bianca snapped. “You didn’t call me to catch up.”

“Fine. You’re right,” Maggie hurried, “but I did want to talk about Reese.”

“It’s really none of you business.”

“I heard about what happened in Pine Valley, Bianca.” Maggie’s eyes were full of sympathy, which silenced Bianca for a moment. “I’m really sorry.”

“Well, you do have a lot to be sorry about.”

Maggie let the words hang in the air for a moment. Then, she reached slowly across the table and let her index finger wrap delicately around Bianca’s wrist. They had reached the heart of the matter. “According to what I’ve heard, Reese does, too.” Maggie waited to see if Bianca would interrupt, or pull her hand away. She did neither.

“Why have you forgiven her, Bianca? Why her and why not me?”

“I don’t have to explain any of this to you,” Bianca said with breaking resolve.

“You don’t… but I wish you would.”

Bianca peeled away Maggie’s finger and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t know what you heard, Maggie, but it couldn’t have been enough to do explain everything that happened. It was mess of betrayal. Everything was a mess of unfairness and half-truths. I hadn’t been honest with Kendall and neither had Zach, Reese hadn’t been honest to me, but I’d kept a lot from her and the mess just compounded—“

“How had you been dishonest to Reese?”

“Everyone ended up under a lot of pressure. All she did was kiss Zach. They had both been drinking and it was just a kiss. I got too threatened by it.”

“You got too threatened by her cheating on you?”

‘It wasn’t like she had slept with him perfectly sober while I was out of town,” Bianca spat pointedly, her jaw set fiercely.

“If you both had been dishonest—does that make forgiveness easier?” Maggie looked at Bianca with gentle inquisitiveness. There had been birds in the cool breeze moments earlier, but Bianca was unaware of any sound or movement. There were just those brown eyes, those unforgettable brown eyes that had been with her for longer than she had wanted them to be, and that had tracked her down when she had tried to shut them out. “Then again,” Maggie continued, “what could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

Bianca closed her eyes and fought back the dampness behind her eyelids.  _“I’m sorry because I am afraid I will never truly be able to give Reese all of myself,”_  she thought.  _“I’m sorry because I’m not even sure I want to, when I sit here, when I see you.”_

Maggie stared hopefully at Bianca as tears sprang into the brunette’s eyes. “You were always so honest with me. It’s one of the thousands of things I loved about you. You were my rock.”

Bianca choked back a sob. How many times had she had this conversation with Maggie in her head? How many times had she heard these stupid, foolish words? “How can you do this again?” her hands flew to her eyes to dash away tears. “However much I supposedly meant to you, it wasn’t enough to keep you faithful. And even when I asked you to come home, you chose not to.” 

“I didn’t want to be forgiven.”

“You made that abundantly clear. Your chance is gone, Maggie. I’ve moved on. Please let me go.”

Maggie could sense the reluctance in Bianca’s voice, whose last words were more a request than a demand, and more a question than a request. Maggie clung to whatever piece it was of her that Bianca was still holding onto. 

“What good would your forgiveness have done? For us?”

Bianca heaved a sigh of exasperation. “Well, for starters, it might have prevented this conversation.”

Maggie ignored Bianca’s switch to sarcasm. “I did a lot of growing up with you, Bianca, but I had a lot left to do. I had to know that I could be without you. I had to know that I didn’t need you.”

Bianca seethed, but the emotional jolt of the encounter muddled her would-be anger with hurt and residual dismay. Longing resurfaced unexpectedly, and Bianca greeted it as a bad habit, or a broken resolution. She opened her mouth to spill the concoction brewing within her, to tell Maggie— _with her coveted honest_ _y_ —exactly how much of an impossibility reconciliation would be, but was interrupted. 

“And I know how ridiculous it sounds now, for me to ask for you to even consider forgiving me, with me telling you I don’t need you. So please let me explain, because for a long time I thought maybe I did need you. You kept me sane after long days, and brought me more joy than I ever could have found on my own. There were so many wonderful things tying us together, but I was getting scared of those things, Bianca. I shouldn’t have cheated, I should never have hurt you so badly. I am sorry. I am still sorry. But where all this time and mess has gotten me is to the most wonderful realization possible: I don’t  _need_  you, Bianca Montgomery, but more than anything, I  _want_  to be with you.”

Maggie’s eyes were brimming with sincerity, and Bianca could hear in her voice the hope and—love. It took a moment for Bianca to remember exactly where she was.

When she did, she rose from the park bench in a hurry. Her heart beat a little harder as Maggie scrambled to do the same. In her rush, she tripped clumsily toward Bianca, and used the brunette’s arms to steady herself for a moment, but did not let go. If Bianca simply turned and left, that would be the end. She had to keep her there, if Bianca could only understand what she was trying to say, surely she couldn’t leave. Surely?

Bianca smiled politely, the way one smiles goodbye to an old friend in a coffee shop after a quick chat and a mocha. Too casual. Too easy. Maggie’s heart sank, and a lump rose in her throat. Her hands began to tighten around Bianca’s shoulders with desperation.

“I don’t want you to go,” Maggie pleaded.

“Well,” Bianca raised one eyebrow, and forced her voice into steadiness, “I guess you  _need_  to.”

And then Bianca was pulling back and walking away. Maggie’s world was melting away, and she began to panic. Though she had imagined this conversation, she hadn’t imagined this ending.

“Bianca,” she panted, chasing after her. This conversation wasn’t supposed to be final, and yet she felt like she was saying goodbye. She began to speak very quickly, and Bianca stopped, in all her vexation, unable to keep herself from listening to everything Maggie had to say. “I’ve always loved you. No matter where we were or who we have been with, you were my first, and ultimately, you are my only. I love you more in this minute than I did when you sat down in front of me today, and I know I will love you even more tomorrow. I love Miranda. Please, tell her that. And if she wants to know more about frogs, I think there’s this exhibit and if she wants to go—I mean, I—well, or, you. I don’t know, Bianca, just—just know how special this has always been to me.”

Maggie picked up Bianca’s hands and brought them gently to her lips. And when she looked up, she and Bianca both knew what would come next, as Maggie kissed her gently on the forehead, and then the cheek, and then—

The resistance evaporated, and what was meant to be only the tiniest of kisses was suddenly making Bianca’s head spin just as their very first kiss had and, come to think of it, just had almost every kiss after that. Maggie’s arms were tucked neatly around her waist, and Bianca ran her fingers through Maggie’s hair for a moment of complete and utter peace. When their lips finally parted, Maggie’s eyes gazed into Bianca’s expectantly.

“That didn’t feel like a kiss goodbye,” she said softly. But Bianca didn’t respond. She whirled around and began to walk briskly away, Maggie helplessly watching her go. Finally, she walked back to the picnic bench, sat in Bianca’s place, and let the tears fall heavily. She sat until the warmth Bianca had drawn to the surface of her skin was replaced by the warmth of the sun against her empty arms.

  
  
“I asked because something is obviously wrong,” Reese said, tossing her hands in the air. “What happened?”

“I met Maggie in the park today.”

Reese hesitated. “Oh.” Bianca didn’t say anything. “Well, that certainly explains why you’re upset,” she said knowingly, attempting to console Bianca by moving behind her and beginning to knead her shoulders softly. “Running into an ex unexpectedly isn’t—“

“It wasn’t unexpected. She called. I met her.” Bianca was grateful that Reese had moved behind her, certain that eye contact would have completely undone her.

“Do you want to tell me about your meeting?” Reese asked.

“Reese, I’m sorry,” Bianca suddenly began to cry.

“Hey, hey, sweetie,” Reese rubbed Bianca’s back gently, “you don’t have to be sorry.”

“Yes I do,” Bianca choked, “because I kissed her.”  _Because I think I knew I would the moment I agreed to meet her._  She felt the rubbing on her back pause for a full second, then resume.

“Well, let’s not have the pot call the kettle black,” Reese tried to joke, though her composure was obviously damaged. “Look, I won’t pretend I’m not hurt, but I love you. I know how complicated things had gotten between you and Maggie. It’s obvious you’re upset, Bianca, but please, don’t be.” She rested her cheek on Bianca’s shoulder and drew her arms around her firmly. “I forgive you.”

The two women lingered in the middle of the kitchen that way as Bianca’s stifled sobs began to quiet altogether. “That’s just it, Reese,” Bianca said quietly. “I don’t think I want to be forgiven.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I still have feelings for Maggie.”

“Letting go of someone you cared about takes time,” Reese reasoned.

“I don’t think I want to let go of Maggie.”

Reese let go of Bianca and paced to the other end of the room.

“Speak to me plainly, Bianca. What does this mean for us?”

Bianca couldn’t answer. Reese put her hand over her mouth and left the room.

  
  
“That frog has a tail!” Miranda squealed.

“It’s still kind of a tadpole,” Maggie explained. “Some people call it a froglet.”

“Will it keep its tail?”

“If we kept an eye on this very frog—well, froglet—and came back in a couple of weeks—it probably wouldn’t have its tail anymore,” Maggie said in an excited, hushed voice.

Miranda’s eyes widened. “Cool,” she breathed. “I wanna go look at the tadpoles again!”

Maggie laughed. “Go look at the tadpoles again; I’m sitting down. You tell me all about your favorite tadpole when you get back.”

The little girl scampered away, and Maggie leaned back against the large plastic rock she had found to sit on in the museum. A brunette came up to her and scooted next to her on the rock, gesturing with the water bottle she had in her hand.

“Want some?” Bianca asked.

“Some what?” Maggie asked with a wicked grin. Bianca thumped her on the head with the water bottle. “Listen, Bianca,” she checked to see that Miranda was out of earshot; the little girl was, indeed, thoroughly occupied at the tadpole pool on the other side of the room. “What happens now?”

“Well, I thought we could get some dinner after this, but if you need to get going—“

“Please, Bianca, I’d stay forever,” Maggie said seriously.

Bianca took a deep breath. “I’m not ready for forever yet.”

_But you could be_ , Maggie thought, reading the unspoken words in Bianca’s eyes. She put her arm around Bianca and smiled happily. “Dinner it is, then. What are you in the mood for?”

“Well, I have this strange craving for frog legs—“

“Shhh!” Maggie explained in mock alarm. “Don’t let them hear you!” Bianca laughed, and Maggie pulled out her phone, sending a text message.

“Who are you texting?”

“Victor.”

“Who’s—my head of security?” Bianca asked incredulously.

“Just letting him know we’re going for dinner. Pizza sound okay?”

Bianca shook her head, bemusedly resigned. “Pizza sounds lovely. Miranda will be thrilled.”

“She’s not the only one.” Maggie winked.

At that moment, Miranda came bounding up. “Maggie, one of the tadpoles just got born! He was so little I could barely see him!”

“Whoa!” Maggie beamed.

“Miranda, how does pizza sound for dinner?” Bianca asked. “Are you hungry yet?”

“Pizza sounds yum,” Miranda said. “Is Maggie going?”

“If she wants,” Bianca replied. Miranda eyed Maggie.

“I want to very much,” she said, gazing significantly at Bianca.

“Let’s go!” Miranda took off hungrily.

Bianca and Maggie stayed behind for a moment, happy to be able to look into each others’ eyes again with such happiness, and a secret surety. Bianca leaned forward, and Maggie’s heart leapt as Bianca’s face drew closer to hers—but Bianca reached deftly into her pocket and snatched her cell phone.

“Hey!” Maggie cried.

Bianca opened it.  _Text Messages, Outbox, Victor.  
_

_Hey. All goin 4 pizza. Hope 2 c u again soon. Not screwin up this time, lol. Thx._

Maggie rubbed the toe of her shoe awkwardly on the carpet. “How could I stay away from someone so suave?” Bianca smirked.

Maggie took Bianca’s hand, cell phone in it, and guided it to her back pocket, helping Bianca slide it in securely. “I love you, Bianca.”

Easily, Bianca squeezed Maggie’s hand in hers, and they headed out of the museum, together again.


End file.
